See Me
by VergofTowels
Summary: Arthur's wedding is being celebrated by all except his manservant. When Merlin confesses to Arthur while drunk, what will the consequences be? Eventual Arthur/Merlin.
1. Chapter 1

First Merlin fic! :) I couldn't help myself; I've become obsessed with the show recently. But please, no spoilers in reviews! I'm only up to Season 2 Episode 6, "The Beauty and the Beast Part 2."

Warnings: None, really. Very brief language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin! If I did, slash would be canon, legend be damned.

* * *

Merlin slung an arm over his head as another piercing round of laughter came from the high table, somewhere off to his right, and wondered if he needed another drink. After all, the carafe of wine was right there, sparkling and red as blood in the candlelight. It wouldn't take any effort at all to reach over and pour himself another goblet. He reasoned that if his vision was as blurry as it was, and it was _quite_ blurry, that he had already had too much. Then he heard Arthur say something cheerfully sarcastic to his flock of hangers-on and decided to go for it.

"Don't you think you had better slow down?" asked Gaius warily, apparently having extricated himself from conversation long enough to check in on his young ward. He took a seat beside the boy and eyed him with wry humor. "I know it's a party, but you do have to work tomorrow."

"Hey, Arthur's wedding only happens once, right?" hazarded Merlin, staring into his cup. He swirled the dark liquid around and watched it go dizzily. "I should celebrate, right? That's what I'm doing, right? Oh, Arthur's looking this way. Better plaster on a smile. Hm. Plaster…"

"Are you all right?" Gaius frowned and leaned closer and Merlin was suddenly aware of the spicy herb scent that clung to the physician's clothes and skin. "You don't look at all well. Perhaps it was something you ate?" He placed a hand on Merlin's chin and turned the boy's thin face this way and that to better examine it in the low light.

"Oh stop, Gaius," he exclaimed, and pulled away listlessly. "It wasn't the food." He aimed an eye up at where the prince and his princess were being congratulated _yet again_ by Uther. She, Lady Sybil, looked radiant in a long blue dress of velvet, her dark hair rollicking forth from her lovely head in a torrent that rivaled Morgana's. "In fact," continued Merlin, his sullen glance lingering on that fine creature, "you could say it was the company."

"She is quite the lady," murmured Gaius. "Yet you do not approve." It was a statement. Not a question.

Gaius knew him better than he'd thought.

"No. I- Well, I don't." Merlin took another swallow of wine. "She's too…artificial, or something. So. Out of all the people he could have married, why did it have to be her?"

Gaius thought for a moment. "I don't know who else you'd have. Morgana made it clear to Uther that she wanted none of it ages ago, and Gwen, though she's a fine girl, is only a servant." He looked at Merlin's face for some reaction but found only the same morose look. Puzzled, he continued, probing for the cause of his ward's anguish. "Lady Althea found a more favorable match in Mercia, Arthur absolutely loathed the Lady Faith, and Lady Beth was disapproved of by the king after her kingdom erupted into a civil war. Lady Sybil is clearly superior to all of these."

But there was still no stir from Merlin.

"Heavens, who else could you be thinking of?"

The boy mumbled something into the table, deciding, apparently, that the carven wood made a good pillow.

"Speak up, Merlin, I can't hear you."

He looked up and blinked rapidly. "I said 'Me.'"

Gaius paused in pouring his own goblet of wine. "'Me?' 'Me' what?"

"Arthur could have married me."

There was silence at the table for a moment and the revels around them seemed deafening in comparison. Finally, Gaius chuckled, unable to do anything else. "Don't be silly, dear boy. Oh stars above, if you remember this in the morning… Wine does make one say the most outrageous-"

"I'm serious!" Merlin wasn't laughing. Merlin was glaring at him with a mixture of hatred and hurt, his blue eyes very dark. He turned away abruptly, reaching out one skinny hand to take the carafe with him. "It's not like I understand it either, Gaius. Stop making fun of me…"

"Oh, Merlin." Gaius was somewhat at a loss, but he reached out to rub the boy's back comfortingly. He could see now that Merlin really was telling the truth; his bewilderment was as clear as the longing Gaius could see when the young mage looked up at Arthur, his shoulders falling in defeat. "Come. The wine won't help anything, now." He pulled the bottle out of Merlin's lax grip and put it back on the table. "Let's go back to our rooms and I'll make you something hot to drink. And sober you up a little. How does that sound?"

"Mm'kay," Merlin sighed, picking at the knee of his trousers.

"Good. You just wait here a moment while I find someone to carry you. Don't protest; I know you won't be able to walk back and I'm much too old for such behavior." Gaius stood up and ruffled Merlin's hair. "Everything will be all right, you'll see. Just sit tight and I'll be back in a minute."

-aaa-

Arthur raised another toast to his good fortune at marrying the Lady Sybil, but it was really just an excuse to avoid _another_ conversation about how lucky he would be in bed that night. Nobel as they were, the knights of Camelot could become a bit bawdy when drunk… Normally, Arthur would have joined in with gusto, but – and could it dare be said? – he had tired somewhat of the barely-disguised references to Sybil's ample cleavage hours ago. It was a wonder the lady herself did not object, though she seemed to be pleased by the knights' jests, even encouraging.

Arthur wondered if he would have to guard against adultery in the future.

"More wine, sir?" asked Percival, Lady Sybil's attendant. He held up a fine vintage for Arthur's inspection and then filled the company's glasses expertly. Arthur laughed a little to himself, thinking of how Merlin would have botched it. He probably would have dropped the bottle or something stupid like that.

Speaking of Merlin, Arthur hadn't seen him all day. He'd caught a glimpse of him at the ceremony earlier, but soon after had been caught up in greeting and thanking all of his guests, speechmaking, and the food. Now he decided to look for his manservant. For some inexplicable reason the prince was missing him.

Expecting to be disappointed – it _was_ rather late and Merlin had work in the morning – Arthur scanned the hall, his sharp eyes on the lookout for Merlin's most recognizable characteristic: his unnecessary red scarf. He was surprised, and a little delighted, to spot the boy sitting at a table by the door, his back to the high table. But it seemed that Merlin was not actually celebrating, instead moping in his usual fashion. Arthur sighed and stood up, entrusting Lady Sybil to Lancelot (by all means the most gentlemanly of his knights when drunk), and headed over to investigate.

"Well, well, Merlin, what have we here?" asked the prince, stepping up beside the boy and looking down in what he considered to be a mildly provoking fashion. "The invitation said to bring yourself, not your personal raincloud. What's the matter? Or are you simply exercising your talent to make everything seem awful?"

"Shove off, Arthur," came the muffled response.

He blinked. "Now hold on a minute. Where do you get off speaking to me like that? Have you taken leave of your wits?" Arthur sat down beside his manservant and leaned in accusingly, hand going reflexively to his hip though he was unarmed.

"I don' wanna talk to you…" Merlin turned a baleful gaze on him and pointed a finger in the prince's general direction. "You ruined… _every_thing."

Only the intoxicated flush on the boy's cheeks stopped Arthur from punching him, though his temper had certainly flared. He gave Merlin a stern look. "What have you been doing, swimming in it?" He reached over to grab the boy's head in reprimand but Merlin pulled away. "Really, how much have you had?"

"Lot. A lot." Merlin put his head down on his arms. "Go 'way."

Arthur didn't know what prevented him from doing just that, but he again curbed his anger and sat back. He sighed. "What's wrong, Merlin?" And because he was absolute shite at comforting anyone, he asked "Where's Gaius?"

"Nothing and I dunno. He wen' off for… something. To get someone. So we could go back."

"Back where?" Communicating with drunk people was hard.

"Th' room. Wait. It's none of your business." Merlin sounded like he was falling asleep, the end of his sentence almost obscured by a yawn.

"Right, well, _you're_ obviously going to need some help with that," observed the prince sardonically.

"Thank you for volunteering, sire."

Arthur raised an eyebrow and turned around to find Gaius standing there, his arms crossed and a distinctly annoyed look on his face. "What?" he asked.

"Well, I need someone sober to carry him, and you seem to be the only one in this entire castle who fits the bill." Gaius walked closer and stooped to examine Merlin, who was now snoring quietly. "All you need to do it bring him back to my chambers. Please."

Arthur sighed and reluctantly stood. "All right, fine, though I'm ditching him if he even looks like puking."

"Fair enough." Gaius smiled. "Help me get him up." Together they managed to haul Merlin to his feet, where he swayed distressingly. From there, Arthur transferred him to his back, the boy's head resting against his shoulder limply.

"Lead the way," he said, trying to ignore Merlin's wine-scented breath on his face, and he followed Gaius out of the hall, leaving his party behind.

-aaa-

Merlin blearily examined the jaw line of whoever was carrying him and tried not to throw up. The somewhat pleasant swirling sensation he'd been experiencing earlier had given way to a sickly rocking motion that was making it hard to concentrate. So he stopped trying. He must have fallen asleep after Arthur left. Right. That would be why he had no idea what was going on.

Suddenly, he felt a terrifying jerk and tried to hold on tighter, fearing he would be dropped, but no. It seemed that the man whose neck he was currently embracing had just shifted him up a bit further. Hm. The man seemed rather familiar. He seemed like Arthur. But since Arthur had gone away when he'd said, and since Arthur had ruined everything and this man was clearly friendly, it couldn't be Arthur.

It was an awful lot like him, though.

"So how'd he get like this, anyway?" asked the man. He sounded like Arthur, too. What a coincidence!

"He was a little upset earlier," replied someone who could only be Gaius, and Merlin realized slowly that they were talking about him. "I think he drank more than he was planning to."

The man who was not Arthur took a better grip on Merlin's knees. "Upset about what?"

"That I'm not a woman," explained Merlin helpfully, trying to steady his gaze. Then there was silence. Gaius and whoever-he-was had stopped walking.

-aaa-

"Uh, what?" said Arthur incredulously. He peered to the side at Merlin's calm face and blinked. Of all the answers he had been expecting, this was not one of them. Then again, he had seen Merlin carrying dresses sometimes. And he had believed him when he said it was for errands. But what had he really been- He shook his head, trying to get the image of Merlin in drag out of his mind. "Gaius, what the hell is he going on about?"

"I… don't have the faintest idea," replied the physician, staring at his ward. "Merlin?"

"'T makes sense," protested the boy, clinging to Arthur in an attempt to regain some clarity. "If I was a woman, then… then at least he would look at me."

"Who would look at you?" asked Arthur, bewildered. Sure, he had heard of those who preferred the… _company _of their own gender, but he had never actually met one. He was fairly certain that it was against the law and was flabbergasted to find Merlin among their ranks. So far as he knew, this was his first experience with something like that. If you didn't count that one dream… moving on. He looked away from his manservant nervously.

-aaa-

Everyone was looking at him as if he had sprouted another head, but Merlin didn't really care. As long as he was telling the truth, it was all right, right? "You know who it is, don't you?" he asked Gaius sadly.

"Yes," said the physician, a little too quickly. He was looking strangely at the man who was not Arthur. "Now I think we had better get you to bed." He reached over and touched Merlin's knee. "It's all right, sire; I can manage him the rest of the way."

"Who is he talking about?" asked the man, stubbornly refusing to let go of Merlin's legs. His grip was becoming a little too tight and Merlin squirmed in discomfort. "Someone I know?"

"It isn't for me to say," Gaius said hurriedly. "Now please, sire-"

But the man wasn't listening. He pulled away from Gaius and set Merlin down himself, turning to face him.

Merlin had had to sit down; the world was still too jumpy for his tastes. But now that he got a good look at his carrier, he saw that the similarities really were quite striking. He smiled bitterly.

"Who do you want to look at you, Merlin," said the man who looked too much like the prince.

Feeling himself tear up involuntarily, Merlin swallowed thickly. In a very small voice he said "Arthur."

On the other side of the hallway Gaius closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

* * *

This will be continued, though I don't know when I'll update. I've got a bunch of crap to do for school this week. Reviews might speed along the process! :D


	2. Chapter 2

This is what I've been calling the morning-after chapter. :) Don't worry, things will get better eventually.

Warnings: Mentions of sex and stuff related to sex.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin!

* * *

The morning light woke him, lancing through the gap in his bed curtains like it had something to prove. Arthur haphazardly threw an arm over his face to block it and groped behind him for his sheet, a blanket, anything to shade his face more permanently. He found a body.

"What the hell?" Arthur pulled away like he'd been burned and whipped around, now wide awake. There was another person in bed with him. Skinny, pale… His guest's back was turned to him. All he could make out from beyond the blanket was a naked shoulder and dark hair. Arthur froze, his heart beating altogether too fast. Cautiously, very cautiously, he reached out, brushing a finger over the exposed skin. He took a shallow breath. "…_Merlin?_"

What had happened last night? He remembered leaving the reception… his servant had been very inebriated. And confused. Saying all kinds of wild things. Arthur flushed a little. That was right. Merlin had… had confessed to him.

He hadn't taken advantage of that, had he? What had _happened_ last night?

The cocoon of blankets shifted slightly, and Arthur drew back again. What was he going to say? What if Merlin was angry? He could hardly recall how they had gotten there, much less how they had ended up naked. Had he also been drunk? …Or poisoned? How exactly was he going to explain this?

"Mmm… Good morning, my lord." Lady Sybil turned under the covers and smiled at her husband, reaching out a delicate hand to touch Arthur's face. Her other arm was wrapped, teasingly perhaps, around her breasts. "Did you sleep well after our romp?"

Arthur, startled, could only nod. And then wonder why he was so surprised. "Of course, love." He placed his palm on her hip. Felt the smooth curve of it under the duvet. Remembered now, how he had returned to the banquet. How, come midnight, he had drawn her close, down the hall, and to his bed.

Remembered how he had left Merlin, practically _weeping_, outside Gaius's rooms. Just walked away. In shock. Well, Merlin had been wrong, right? Perverse, illegal. _Homosexual_. His father's words. His father's laws, coming back to haunt him.

Arthur closed his eyes and kissed his wife and wondered why he felt so goddamn guilty.

-aaa-

Merlin clutched the wooden bucket in cold fingers and retched again, his mouth already sour with the taste of bile. At least none of it had gotten on his clothes this time. But he supposed that was the price he had to pay. Arthur's wedding. No wonder he was so hungover. Thank the stars it was dark in his room this morning. Gaius had draped a heavy old tablecloth across the window to block the sun, and Merlin was excessively grateful for it. He was indebted to Gaius for all he'd done…

There was a soft tapping at the door and Merlin looked up, scrubbing at his chin hastily with his sleeve. "Come in," he called, as loudly as he was able.

"It's just me," said Gaius, and the physician stepped in quietly with a basket on his arm. "I wanted to let you know that I'll be going on my rounds soon. Do you need anything?"

"No, I think that was the last of it…" sighed Merlin. "Thank you for the medicine earlier. I think it helped. Leastways, I can actually think now." He tried to smile past the still-persistent ache in his head. "Oh, if you're going to the palace, could you please tell Arthur that I won't be in until- What is it?" Gaius had gained an odd, shuttered look that Merlin didn't like. "What happened? Is Lady Sybil an enchantress?"

"No, nothing like that." Gaius stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him, and took a seat on Merlin's bed. "I was hoping to discuss this with you a little later, when you were feeling better."

Merlin pushed away his bucket and sat back against the wall. "Whatever it is, I'm all ears."

Gaius sighed heavily. "How much can you remember from last night?"

Merlin bit his lip. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" He saw Gaius shake his head no. "Well, I remember I was at the wedding, and that we went to the reception together. There was some dancing, I think. Then Arthur made some speech about how-" his voiced cracked annoyingly, "-how lucky he was, and something about prosperity. Then there was food…" He paused. "I may have, uh, enjoyed myself a little much."

"You weren't enjoying yourself."

"What? 'Course I was." Again, he tries to smile, but it was difficult now for a completely different reason. "Arthur's got himself the prettiest girl in Camelot…"

Gaius held up a hand to stop him. "You don't have to lie, Merlin. I know about your… feelings for the prince."

Was it possible for your heart to stop while you kept on living? "You…you do?"

"Yes. You told me during the reception. It was getting fairly late."

A fuzzy recollection was coming to Merlin now. It left a bitter taste. "Are you… going to kick me out?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

Gaius scoffed. "Of course not. You know you're welcome to stay as long as you like. I believe I've told you this before, but you're like a son to me. I could never make you leave."

"Thank you." Merlin got to his knees and shuffled over to the bedside, reaching up to half-hug his guardian. "Then… we can just never talk about it again. As long as Arthur never finds out, we won't have a problem, right?"

"My dear boy…" Gaius placed a hand on Merlin's head, gently patting him. "Arthur already knows." It was so hard for him to watch his ward's face sink…

"What?" Merlin blinked. "No, he couldn't. He's a great man, yes, but he's really quite…" But Gaius's eyes were steady and his face was grim. "You mean I… I _told _him? Last night?"

"I'm afraid so."

Merlin slumped in the embrace, a look of disbelief written all over his features. "Oh. I am so dead."

He made a grab for the bucket.

-aaa-

"Splendid!" cried Uther again, beaming at the happy couple over breakfast. He seemed to have recovered better from the festivities than everyone else. His kingly fortitude, perhaps. "I am glad this is working out so well for you. You could be as lucky as Ygraine and I were."

"I certainly hope so, Your Majesty," said Sybil silkily, her hand brushing Arthur's on the tabletop.

The prince made a noise of agreement but remained concentrated on his food. Though his mother was mentioned but rarely, he found he had no desire to hear about her now. In fact, all he wanted to do was get away from the table. The cheese seemed to be sticking in his throat.

"You two should go riding before Arthur trains," suggested Uther, and Arthur tried to remind himself not to speak out. "The day is clear and warm. A horse will be provided for you, Sybil. Think of it as a wedding gift from me."

"Oh, thank you, Sire." She clasped her hands and tittered girlishly. "The horses from Camelot received the highest praise in my homeland." She laid her fork gracefully beside her empty plate. "I'd love to go now. Surely that wouldn't be too much of a problem?"

"Not at all," declared Uther, rising. He shot a look at his son, still picking over his meal.

"Perfect," said Arthur with a zeal he didn't feel. He pushed his chair back and stood as well, offering his arm – at the last second –to his wife.

"Thank you, Arthur," she said cheerfully, giving him a surprisingly tender smile. She _had_ been one of the princesses vying for him with honor, rather than backbiting politics. And she had been kind when they first met. That was why he had liked her. Why he still liked her, he told himself, and why he loved her. That one was a little harder to… Well, of course he loved her. They were married now. He didn't have a choice.

Still, he could have picked someone worse. When they reached the stable she cooed like a young girl at the horses there, and Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit of pride. He took care with his horses, and had care taken with them by all of the staff that tended them.

_Mer_lin did not care for horses. Well, that was a lie. He just wasn't particularly accustomed to them, having grown up without a steed. Arthur had had to give him remedial riding lessons before taking him on his second hunt, just so Merlin would stop falling off and crashing through the underbrush.

Luckily, Lady Sybil needed no coaching. She took to riding like breathing and Arthur respected her the more for it. She looked quite pretty atop her white mare, and no one could deny they made a handsome pair galloping out the gates and across the fields.

It was a glorious day, perfectly sunny with a bit of a breeze. Arthur could feel his mood lifting as the wind ruffled his hair. After half an hour racing Sybil up and down the hillsides, he was downright blissful. Merlin had flown from his thoughts.

-aaa-

Merlin padded as quietly as he could to Arthur's chambers, almost turning back several times along the way. But he couldn't be a coward. The best thing to do was to nip this in the bud, tell Arthur he was sorry that he rambled when intoxicated. That he didn't mean any of it, even though that made a sick feeling creep into his chest. His hands were shaky when he knocked.

There was no response.

When he tried again, there was silence again, and the same for his third attempt. He finally decided just to go in. After all, the most likely scenario was that Arthur was out. Princes couldn't afford to sleep all day, despite Arthur telling him otherwise when he blinked grumpily awake every morning. So Merlin tugged at his scarf and wiped his palms on his shirt before unlocking the door and stepping in.

As he suspected, the room was empty. Merlin took a step forward, crossing the threshold, and carefully shut the door behind him. The table in the outer chamber was clear of dishes; the king had probably requested his son for breakfast. He stooped to pick up Arthur's cloak, which had fallen to pool by the fireplace, and brushed off the faint traces of dust. He sighed. Soon, the prince would have him clearing the chimney again…

Well, the cloak belonged in the wardrobe, anyway. Merlin swung the pile of rich fabric over his shoulder and went over to the dark armoire by the wall to hang it up. As he straightened it on its hook he gave in for a moment and lifted its soft folds to his face, inhaling the earth-metal-blood-and-sweat smell that was Arthur. This was Merlin's favorite scent, though he would, of course, deny it if asked.

Outside the door he heard the passing of one of the other palace servants, worn boots ringing on the stone in a way they wouldn't have had the nobility been nearby. Merlin sighed and dropped the cloak, giving it one last pat before closing the wardrobe. He had to remember that _he_ was a servant as well. He _had_ to step softly when in the presence of his betters. His feelings, as out of his control as they were, were not allowed.

Arthur would really be furious.

That line of thinking was giving him a stomachache, however, so he abandoned it fairly quickly. He needed something to occupy him until Arthur returned. Armor-polishing was out of the question, since he had done it the day before for the wedding. Same with laundry. And there was no way he would voluntarily muck out the stalls… He straightened a few candles while he decided what to do. On the whole, Arthur's room was already rather clean. Merlin didn't have any spiderwebs to destroy or rats to hunt down.

He finally settled on this: he would make Arthur's bed, as he could spot the rumpled bedclothes from here, and then help Gaius for another hour or two. There was no sense moping around in his master's chambers if his master wasn't there. He went into the bedroom.

It smelled like sex. Strongly. And the sheets were a mess.

Merlin closed his eyes.

-aaa-

Arthur unlocked the door to his rooms, trying at the same time to stop grinning like an idiot. His ride with Lady Sybil had gone exceedingly well. She was not as simple as he'd originally taken her for. In fact, she had a quiet determination about her that had surprised him. They'd talked of many things… Once, he'd even managed to shoot a few partridges with one of his guard's bows, since they'd stumbled upon a covey in one of the forest clearings. It had impressed her and left a warm feeling in his chest.

Now he was eager to change his clothes and get to dinner with her. He just needed to call Merlin and then he could-

Merlin.

Arthur felt the elation that had buoyed him all afternoon start to leak away. Somehow he'd managed to forget all about the boy's awkward confession. What _was_ he going to do about that? Toeing off his boots, he muttered "I wish he'd never said that…"

"So do I," came the voice of his manservant. Arthur jerked up and came face to face with Merlin, who was standing by the entrance to his bedroom looking a bit drawn.

"Don't do that," commanded Arthur, straightening. There was a moment of silence as he and Merlin took each other's measure. He opened his mouth to say something, anything.

"It's all my fault, sire," said Merlin, beating him to it. He suddenly forced a smile, his eyes remaining dull. "You know me, I'm drunker than a sailor with one pint. I guess more than that makes me crazy as well." He laughed a little.

Arthur blinked. "So you didn't mean what you said?"

"Nope, not at all. In fact, I'm sure it'll make quite a joke for you in the future." With another nervous chuckle he turned, jerkily, and went into the bedroom.

Arthur, following, was hit with the evidence of last night's… activities and stopped, though his manservant continued to the side of the bed and grabbed an unblemished corner of the blanket. "Er, Merlin, I'll get someone else to do that."

"Don't be silly, Arthur. I clean your sheets every week," came Merlin's fake-chipper reply. He bundled up the dirty linens efficiently. "In fact, I just came to get them. And now I'm leaving." The boy hurried back out to the door, juggling his load to get it open while Arthur just watched, at a loss for what to do.

"You're going?"

"Yes. Oh, and, sire?" Merlin glanced over his shoulder, his thin face unreadable. "Just pretend I never said anything. I was lying. Definitely lying."

For a long time after Merlin left, Arthur stared at the door, occasionally pacing a few steps this way or that, then he sat down on his bare mattress. "I suppose… this is what I want."

* * *

This one was kind of hard to write, so I apologize if it is awkward. There should be a plot introduced next chapter, once I figure out what I want to happen. (I kind of just wanted to write the scene where Merlin tells Arthur, but I can't leave it there, obviously!)

Review!


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